Seeker
by Padfoot the Marauder
Summary: (CONTINUED WITH ANOTHER TWO CHAPTERS!) Sirius’ death leaves Harry emotionally numb. He desperately wants to feel again and feels that Draco is the one who can make him do that. One-shot, two chapters, two POV. HarryDraco
1. Default Chapter

**Title**: Seeker

**Author**: Padfoot the Marauder.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I don't even own a car, so what makes you think I own Harry or Draco? Idiot!

**Summary**: Sirius' death leaves Harry emotionally numb. He desperately wants to feel again and feels that Draco is the one who can make him do that. One-shot, two chapters, two POV. Harry/Draco, Male/male, Lemon, Anal

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A/N: I'm in a sullen mood (family problems, finals on their way, papers to write,...) and I thought I should take advantage of it. This isn't one of my usual fluffy stories. I'm not used to writing darker stuff like this, so let me know what you think 'kay.

It's a one-shot, two chapters. The first one is Draco's POV, the second's Harry's. Oh and... **WARNING! This contains Male/Male sex! I don't think it's NC-17, more of an R; but I'm not completely sure about it, so you are warned! **

I hope I don't get kicked off for this. 

******************

**Chapter one: Draco.**

I'm lying awake in my bed listening to the thunder breaking the silence of the night. I hear the raindrops bouncing off the surface of the ground as I watch the lightning illuminate the sky. This instantly reminds me of you. 

Lightning.  

Hard not to.

I wish you were here; whispering sweet nothings in my ear until I fall asleep cuddled up in your arms. I sigh, close my eyes and I can almost feel your touch. 

No, not almost. 

I _can _feel you. The weight of the mattress on my bed suddenly shifts away from me, an arm snakes around my waist and hugs me close while hot breath makes contact with my neck. I gasp in surprise and my heart takes an involuntarily jump of delight. You're here! You're back! You came! I roll myself around to face you. I can't help but smile at the sight of your face so close to mine. There you are! Your sad looking eyes stare into mine longingly; pleading for an unvoiced request. I smile at you, lean in and sweetly brush my lips against yours. You don't need to plead, love. I'll always say 'yes'. 

I slightly part my lips to brush my tongue against your bottom lip. Your lips part to grant me access and I catch your tongue with mine. You respond with a childlike eager and deepen the kiss; our tongues sliding passionately against each other. I could kiss you all day long; nibbling on your lips, revelling in your taste, drowning in your pleasured gasps. Our lips part so I can pull off your shirt. Green. Like you eyes. You're gorgeous, you know that? Someone should tell you every day. 

While pulling your shirt over your head I've messed up your hair even more. I reach out and caress the jet-black strands out of your eyes. Some might say you're too skinny, but to me you're perfect. You're angelic pale skin makes you look so innocent and unspoiled. I quickly rid myself of my own shirt, tossing it away like the useless rag it is. I lean in and kiss you again. I can't help but groan at the skin-to-skin contact. I love the way your naked torso feels against my own. How well our bodies fit together; it's almost like we're crafted for each other. You pull me down on the bed so I'm laying on top of you. You are so beautiful. You're everything I've wanted since I was eleven. You're a dream come true. 

Gods, Harry. Caress me. Touch me. Love me... 

Like I love you.

But you can't, can you?

I'm not even a faceless person to you, am I? If I were, it would have made much more sense.

You're in my mind. All day. Every day. It's maddening. I used to fantasize about you. Touching you. Making love to you. Just the sheer thought of our bodies linked together used to make me cum without even having to touch myself. 

Still, it was less maddening then now; when I do have you... but yet not. You reside in darkness. You don't hide from it; you _seek_ it.  _Hide_ in it. Hide away from the pain the light of morning brings.

That's why you're with me. 

I represent the darkness in your life. I'm the image your mind has created for everything that has gone wrong in the past. I'm a dark hole that needs to be filled with love; or something that closely resembles it anyway. Because this is why we're both here isn't it? Filling a hole in our hearts. 

Your hole has been there since the end of last term in the Ministry of Magic, mine since a little over six years ago when you turned down my friendship on the Hogwarts Express. 

I used to fill it by being mean to you. Hating you...

While in fact; I hated _myself_ for you hating me.

Funny, how Sirius Black's death finally brought you to me, yet drove you away from me forever. You're broken. I want to fix you, but I don't know how. 

         '...Please...', I hear you whimper. 

I smile as I caress you cheek and tenderly kiss your lips. No need do beg me, love. 

Lubrication-charm. One finger. Two fingers. Three fingers. Ready. 

I slowly enter you. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can possibly be.  I don't want to hurt you. You have hurt enough already. You don't even wince. You never wince. Not even the first time. 

You gave me your virginity and I gave you mine. And, if given the chance, I would give it to you again.

Your hips buckle against mine as I must have brushed against your prostate. I pull back and hit the same spot again. And again. And Again. You're writhing under me. I love to kiss you, fondle and play with your body. Discover it's sensitive areas and fool around with them. I love to make you squirm for my touch. I want to drive you crazy with want. I know where you live; I know where you breathe. No one knows your body as well as I do, Harry. 

Your breathing has turned ragged and so has mine. Your pull me down against you and make my lips crash down on yours; our tongues battling heatedly in the imprisonment of our mouths. Our heated flesh dancing in an ancient rhythm guided by a force of nature. I smother you with heated kisses. I want to taste you; devour you. Make you mine. This is my very personal heaven. Our bodies linked together for eternity and beyond. Please Harry, make me forget you don't love me! Make me forget that each time you leave my room you might not come back!

Not yet. I don't want this to end. Not yet. I want to do this together. I wrap my hand around you arousal and quicken the thrusts of my hips at the same pace as my hand's. Our mouths collide in a sloppy kiss; our minds too heated to do it properly. I feel by the shuddering of your body that you're getting close. As you suck on my tongue I can feel my abdominal muscles contracting. Sweet orgasm approaches. Your moans gets lost in my mouth as mine into yours. Waves of energy jolt through me as my seed spills out into you; releasing me of a nameless burden. 

Panting, I look at you and see your emerald-green eyes burn into mine. My breath hitches at the sight. 

_How can you do this?_

How can you look me in the eye at the peek of our passion and not feel anything? How can you feign such deep emotion? Do you know what this does to me? How this is killing me from the inside? Having you; yet not. You probably do know this. And that's why you _keep_ doing it. 

I gently slip out of you and release you from the strain of my crushing weight. I protectively wrap my arms around you and hug you close. Don't go, Harry. Please, don't go. I want to hold you all night. Wake up into each others arms and face the terrible dawn together. I can feel you trying to get out of my grip, but I wont let you. If I just hold you tight enough; would it prevent you from leaving? No, don't look at me! Not those pleading eyes again. Your hands gently pry open my gripping fingers to release yourself from my grip. 

I watch you as you get dressed. You do it so mechanically it's worrying. Like you've just gotten up in the morning and are putting on your clothes to go to breakfast. Like nothing has just transpired. 

You look at me one last time before you leave. Your look just screams apology. Yes, Harry, I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I can't seem to give you what you so desperately want. I look into your eyes and I fight myself not to weep. You turn around to leave. You momentarily stop in your tracks as if you want to say something, but you seem to think the better of it. And before I know it, you're out the door. 

I sigh, cover my naked cooled down body with my sheets and burry my face in my pillow. 

_'Damn that Gryffindor-honesty_!' I think as I punch my pillow with my fist.

_'Why can't you just lie?' _

*Punch*

_'Just pretend!'_

*Punch*

_'Pretend that you love me!' _

I punch again and a handful of feathers flee the pillowcase. Silent tears escape my eyes and seep into the pillow. My body shakes from pent up emotion as tiny white feathers dance around me. 

I wrap my arms around my pillow, whishing it was you. I look out the window to see that the rain has stopped pouring.  The thunder had stopped and no more lightning was to be seen. I sigh and patiently wait for the approach of the dreaded dawn; where everything is in light. Light shows everything. Makes people hide from it; hide themselves. Darkness at least is honest. I like darkness. It's when you come. 

Eternal darkness. 

Sounds nice doesn't it?

Eternal you.

***

End of part one.

A/N: Writing this both in the first-person and in the present-tense wasn't a pick nick, but I thought: 'okay, I can do this'... and then I came to the orgasm part. How in the bleeding Hell am I supposed to know what a male orgasm feels like? *sigh* I hope it's about right the way I described it. *snorts in frustration*  


	2. Part two

**Title**: Seeker

**Author**: Padfoot the Marauder.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I don't even own a car, so what makes you think I own Harry or Draco? Idiot!

**Summary**: Sirius' death leaves Harry emotionally numb. He desperately wants to feel again and feels that Draco is the one who can make him do that. One-shot, two chapters, two POV. Harry/Draco, Male/male, Lemon, Anal

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**Chapter two: Harry**

I'm dead inside. 

When Sirius died, so did I. 

He was like a father. 

Like a brother. 

And I killed him. 

No, not with my hands, but with my love. He loved me and that's what killed him. 

I thought love was supposed to save peoples lives, like my mother saved me with her love. 

Or perhaps it's like a one-way-street. Everyone who cares for me gets killed, but no one who I care for stays alive. 

My dad loved me: he died.

My mum loved me: she died.

Sirius loved me: he died.

I've never really known my mum or my dad, so Sirius was the only person to come close to a relative I've really known. He was both a brother and a father; my surrogate-family. 

I lost my family.

Again.

How am I supposed to be able to love or care when I see everyone who does so getting themselves killed by it? Something has changed in me. Like something clicked. Like a switch has been flicked to stop myself from feeling. 

I feel numb. 

You know when your leg's asleep? 

It's like that, but on the inside. You can't really do much about that. If my leg is asleep; I go and sit on it to make it stop. But what do you do when your inside is asleep? 

Sit on it?

Huh!?

I've got to go. Get out of here. I'm getting out of bed and walk out the dorm, out the common room, out of Gryffindor tower. My legs seem to move on their own accord; leading me to you. 

Just like that first time. 

I don't know why it had to be you of all people. I'm not complaining though. And apparently neither are you. I don't know why something in me seems sure you can give me what I need.

I don't know why.

_I just know it. _

I find my way towards the dungeon, through the common room, up the stairs; to your dorm. I see you lying on your bed. I walk towards you and snuggle myself close to your warm body. I like the way you smell. Even blindfolded I could pick you out of a line of people just by your scent. It's comforting somehow; knowing I could do that. 

I can feel by the shudder of your body that you are awake. You turn yourself around to look at me with those wonderful icy-grey eyes of yours.

_Please Draco, I need you._

You smile at me and kiss me. Thank god, I think with a sigh. Your tongue slowly brushes against mine and I shiver from the sheer perfection of it all. I'm so glad you're not sending me away. 

I know you deserve more than me. 

Someone better. 

Someone whole. 

I lift my arms so you can pull my nightshirt over my head. You toss it aside and you brush a bunch of loose strands of hair out of my face. I like how you make me feel like I'm made out of porcelain; like I might break if handled to roughly. 

I wont break you know.

I'm already broken.

I pull you down on top of me. I want to feel the weight of your shirtless body crushing mine. You kiss my neck and suck on my tender flesh and I can't help but moan in contentment. I can feel your silvery blond hair tickling me. I love you hair. It's almost as pale as your skin. Or your skin is almost as pale as your hair. I'm not sure.

You're like the other piece of the puzzle that is my life. Like light and darkness. I used to think you were the dark one, but I suppose our roles changed. 

You've gotten rid of my clothes and are caressing every square inch of my body. No one knows me as well as you do. I should feel embarrassed about being touched in such intimate places, but I don't.  Can't even feel that.  

I enjoy the way you kiss me; hold me; touch me. So passionately. 

How does it feel? Passion? 

Not a scar or a freckle is to be find on your lean figure. You're physical perfection. That's possible one of the reasons I always find myself so drawn to you. You remind me of a purity I've lost. An innocence which is irretrievable. But when you hold me, hug me, fill me, it's almost as if it's back. Almost.

Please Draco, I need you! I need to feel whole.

You kiss me tenderly to let me know you will ease my ache. Why do you do this for me? You don't need to do this. You _are_ already whole. Aren't you?

I gasp as you enter me. Fill me. Complete me. It should hurt, but it never does. Not even the first time. I can't help but wish it would hurt. Just to feel. 

You pull back and I have to force myself not the whimper at the loss. But I know you'll come back again and complete me. Which you do. You always do. You're always here for me. 

I love the way my body reacts to your caresses. How it works on its own accord, free from my mind. It gets all warm and flushed. Wanting. Needing. Suddenly all else seems irrelevant. Food, drink, air, life, death... 

Nothing matters accept for the fact that you don't stop doing what it is you're doing.

Gods Draco, fuck me senseless! Make me scream until my throat is so hoarse I can't talk for a week. Make me forget! Make me feel alive! Make me feel... anything! 

I groan in relief as you wrap your hand around my erection and start picking up your pace. Just a couple more thrusts. Please Draco, just a couple more. Perhaps this time I'll feel... I need this, I... Yes, one more. _Yes_! Just one more. One thrust...  Two thrusts... Three...

_Yes_! 

...

No.

I look into your eyes and see the thing that's lacking in mine; a sparkle. You look back at me and see me for what I am: a satisfied heap of flesh. 

Literally.

_A heap of flesh._

Why? Why won't this end? Why can't what my body is feeling transfer to my mind? I would weep, but I can't even do that.  I'm numb inside.  

I try to get up, but you won't let me. I've got to go, Draco. I shouldn't fall asleep next to you. The jest would be a lie and I don't want to lie to you. You deserve more than that. I gently pry your fingers loose and release myself from your grip to get dressed. I can feel your eyes on me as I dress myself. How should this make me feel? Embarrassed? Flattered?  Cared for? Loved?

I want to tell you something. I shouldn't leave without uttering a single word to you. It's not right. I need to say something. Anything. 

But I don't know what. 

Honest to God, I can't. I can't even utter a single word to you; the person who gets to see me for who I am. You're the only one who knows, the only one who understands. And that's why I shouldn't do this to you. I should never come back, but I probably will anyway; seeking for what only you can give me. I can't help it. I'm a Seeker so that's what I will probably always do; seeking. 

Seeking for the illusive Golden Snitch that is my heart.

After a brief hesitation I walk on, shut the door behind me and disappear into the darkness. I walk back into my own bed to await the sunrise; when I have to get out of bed, get washed up, get dressed, go to breakfast, engage in mindless chit chat... 

And face the terrible light of dawn.

Alone.  

*******THE END*******

A/N: I wrote this in a whim, so it's probably not one of the best things I've written. I don't know. *shrugs* I needed to vent a little. Haven't bothered to get this Beta'd, so sorry for the mistakes. 

Please review. I'd like to know if next time I feel the need to vent again I should keep it to myself or not. ;) 


	3. chapter three

**A/N:** This is a little sequel to "Seeker". If you think this part sucks, just disregard it. I just wanted to give a somewhat more happy ending for those who wanted one.  
  
**Disclaimer**: Own nothing and JK would probably kill me if she knew what I was doing to her characters.  
  
**Part one: Draco  
**  
I'm desperately trying not to look at you, but I'm failing miserably. You're sitting there absentmindedly staring at your plate, surrounded by your Gryffindor-posse who are merrily enjoying their lunch. Why isn't anyone doing anything? Why isn't anyone trying to help you? Has everyone given up? Lord knows I can't help you, but someone else should.  
  
Why isn't Weasley shaking you by the shoulders or Granger slapping some sense into you? Her right hook is mean enough to do that.  
  
Trust me, I know.  
  
Suddenly you get up from your seat and make your way out of the Great Hall. Why isn't anyone going after you? Is everyone blind?  
  
I'm getting up from my seat to go after you, not caring if anyone notices.  
  
I find you in the nearest bathroom getting yourself cleaned up after you've obviously just been sick. I wait by the door, watching you. Your leaning on the sink and you're staring at your refection in the mirror. The look on your face as you're looking at yourself is utterly disconcerting. I can't really describe it, but it isn't a look anyone should give when they're looking at their own reflection. It's like you're staring at your worst enemy. Like you would stare at the Dark Lord. But even at him you wouldn't look at in such a mocking way.  
  
Your head suddenly snaps in my direction as you've become aware of my presence. Your body stiffens. You look away again almost instantly as your eyes meet mine. It's as if you're trying to wish me away. Like; when you can't see me, I'm not there.  
  
No. You're not wishing me away! Not this time.  
  
I can see you physically shaking as I'm walking towards you. What is all this hut you're keeping pent up Harry? Why can't you just let it out? If not to me; to someone else?  
  
But there is no one else is there? No one dares to push you. They're hoping you'll come around in due time. Letting you fix it on your own time. But it's not working is it?  
  
Look at me Harry.  
  
I reach out with my hand and force your head up so your gaze meets mine. Reluctantly you look into my eyes, but don't recoil all the same.  
  
You surprise me as suddenly I find my mouth covered with yours. You're hungrily kissing me, as if you're trying to extract something from me. Something you desperately need. Still desperately searching for filling that void inside of you.  
  
But I can't fill that void Harry. It's obvious now isn't it? After all this time.  
  
You're trying to unbutton my shirt. You're hands are trembling with need and I cover them with mine to stop you.  
  
No Harry. Not this time.  
  
You look at me pleadingly and I have to mentally strain myself not to give in to you.  
  
But I won't. Not this time.  
  
You're trying to kiss me again, but I stop you.  
  
You're trying to touch me, but I won't let you.  
  
How much I wish I could help you. I wish I could make you feel how I feel. Sometimes I wish I was numb. So I wouldn't have to feel this bittersweet sorrow. I love how I feel towards you and I love how you need me so desperately; day after day. But I hate how it makes me feel when I don't seem to be able to give to you what you're searching for. And I live in fear of the day that you'll search it with someone else.  
  
You're getting angry from my refusal. Your attempts to make love to me are stopping and instead your trying to hurt me out of desperation. I can feel a dull pain of your fists colliding with my chest, but it is nothing compared to the pain of my heart breaking from the sight of you. You're physically suffering and knowing that I could easily ease that ache is tearing me from the inside.  
  
Your punches decrease. Your body is too malnourished, your mind too tired.  
  
I pull you in a tight embrace, but you do not return it.  
  
"I love you, Harry" I say in a hoarse whisper.  
  
I don't know why I said it, but it's the truth all the same. And it feels good saying the truth for once. And now it's out there and I can't take it back. And I don't care.  
  
Your body is stiffening almost immediately. Your shaking and if I wasn't supporting both our weights I'm sure you would have tumbled to the floor. I can feel your arms closing around my back, holding on to me as a drowning man holding onto a life raft. As if I might disappear if you won't hold on tight enough.  
  
I can't suppress a surprised gasp as I realise something.  
  
Are you're crying?  
  
You burry your head in the crook of my neck and start sobbing violently.  
  
You're actually crying!?  
  
You're breaking down. Physically and mentally. Spilling your emotions as I cradle you in my arms. I can't help but cry myself. How can my declaration of love enforce such a reaction out of you?  
  
The first real reaction you've given in months.  
  
We sink to the floor as my legs don't seem to continue being able to support us both.  
  
Never in my life have I been so sad and happy at the same time.  
  
It hurts to see you breaking down like this.  
  
But that means you can be built up again.  
  
Live again.  
  
Feel again.  
  
Love again.  
  
Cry, Harry! Hold on to me and cry. Cry for those you've loved and lost.  
  
I just love you. I won't get lost.  
  
I just love you.  
  
TBC 


	4. chapter four

**Part four: Harry**

I'm in the Great Hall for lunch. The conversations wash over me like a wave; drowning me in words. I can't speak. Don't want to. I'm just sitting here staring at my plate; not touching my food.  My stomach protests to my lack of nourishment, but I don't care.

Hunger keeps me alert.

But why do I need to be alert? Voldemort is dead. I know. I killed him.

It's like this nagging voice in my head urging me on to keep my head clear. To always remain watchful. Sleep with one eye open. Don't trust anyone.

Constant vigilance.

Perhaps I should get myself a magical eye and get it over with.

How can all these people resume their normal lives as if nothing has happened? How can anyone smile after so much bloodshed, so much death? And then they say _I'm_ numb inside!

You all make me sick!

You really do.

I run out the Great Hall towards the first bathroom in sight and retch like my life depends on it. Fuck, this hurts! The acid of my stomach scorches my throat and my eyes sting with surfacing tears due to the lack of oxygen.

Thank God; it's stopping.

I let myself sink to the floor and try to catch my breath. How can I possibly throw up like this when I hardly eat anything?

I scramble myself off the floor and make my way towards a sink to clean myself up. I briefly glance at the mirror to see my reflection. I'm an utter mess. 

Funny.

I look like I feel.

No more hero-destined-to-save-the-world-who's-stuck-in-scrawny-innocent-looking-fifteen-year-old-boy.

No, now I'm utter mess who looks like utter mess.

A sound draws my attention to the door, but I look away again almost instantly as I see who is there.

Shit Draco, you shouldn't be here! Go away. Don't look at me. Don't let your eyes get tainted by the sight of me.

My body trembles as I feel you closing in on me.

Don't touch me...

Please don't...

You're standing in front of me now. I can feel your hand cupping my chin to lift my head up.

No!

You're looking at me and I'm looking at you. You're so fucking close it hurts. My other half. The half that's lacking.

So close.

I can't.

I want.

I shouldn't.

I...

I close the distance between us and softly kiss you. All thoughts of right and wrong escape my mind once my lips make contact with yours. This is how it's supposed to be. Me and you. Together. Creating a whole.

I need to feel you; touch you. Make it go away, Draco. I want to feel! I want to feel joy for killing Voldemort! I want to feel happy like everyone else does. Please touch me!

I reach up to unbutton your shirt, but your hands grasp my wrists to stop me.

Please!

I look at you pleadingly and receive a determined look in return, together with .... pity? Is it pity you feel?

You _should_ pity me. Just look at me!

I'm an empty vessel.

I try to struggle away from your grip. I need to feel you. I need to feel whole!

But you won't let me.

I try to kiss you, but you won't let me.

I try to feel your skin, but you won't let me.

_Why can't you let me be whole, Draco? Why?!?_

I start punching you in the chest out of sheer agony, but you won't stop me. You don't fight back. Why don't you hit me, slap me, punch me? Curse me into the seventh ring of Hell!

Hurt me!

Like I hurt you!

My punches seas. My body is too weak. My mind too deadened.

You pull me into a tight embrace and hold me close to you. I do not return it. I can't. I'm dangling into your arms like a rag doll.

"I love you, Harry" I hear you whisper.

...

Love?

No.

You can't love me, Draco. Love kills. You can't love me!

Please tell me you're lying to me. Please! Please Draco.

I can feel your hand caressing my hair.

My body is visibly shaking. I'd buckle through my knees to the floor, but you're arms steady me. I'm holding on to you for dear life.

I can't loose you!

Not another one.

Not you. 

No.

Not _you_.

Tears are escaping my eyes and silently run down my cheeks. I'm trembling violently. My body is breaking down.

Or is it my mind that is breaking down?

I bury my face in your neck and start sobbing. I weep for everything that I haven't wept for. I weep for everyone and everything I've lost. I've lost my family and I've lost friends.

And I've even lost myself.

I'm crying my heart out to you; spilling my tears out over your robe as you hold me close to you. 

The thought of losing you is so painful I can't stand it! There's a painful knot in my chest. It hurts. I fucking physically hurts!

...

And that's when I know.

You are my heart.

You are the illusive Golden Snitch I've been searching for.

Hold me.

Just hold me.

We sink to the floor as you continue to hold me in your arms; where I belong.

In the light.

Together, with you.

The Golden Snitch that is my heart.

THE END


End file.
